


Sweater Sharing

by zooeyscigar



Series: Sweater Envy 'Verse [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Co-workers, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zooeyscigar/pseuds/zooeyscigar
Summary: “Still, I look good in your sweater, and you’re now thinking of which other ones you can pawn off on me, so that you can see me wearing your clothes at the office every day this week.”“That’s ridiculous,” Flint sneered.“Ye-es, but that doesn’t make it any less truuue,” John murmured with a singsong voice.“You’re the worst and I hate you.” Flint’s frown looked more like a pout.“Because I’m right. You hate that I can read your mind.”“You can’t.” At John’s defiant laugh, Flint said, “Fine, what am I thinking right now?”





	Sweater Sharing

**Author's Note:**

> IDEK why these boys won't let me stop writing them, but here's the sequel to Sweater Envy.  
> (it's possible there will be a part three at some point, but I can't promise anything)
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR!  
> <3

“Hey, Silver! Looking good,” John’s supervisor, Jack, said. “Did you finally get some fashion sense or does your Secret Santa have stellar taste?”

“Let’s see... Do I count that as sexual harassment or the willful undermining of an employee’s morale?” 

Jack wrinkled his nose at the snark. John chuckled in triumph. 

“It’s acknowledging that for the first time you look office-appropriate. This is what business casual means,  _ friend. _ ”

“Oh come on. Polos and button-up shirts are biz cash, the employee manual says so.”

“Yeah but you wear them too tight and in the louchest sort of way...” Jack seemed to realize he was nearly treading the actual sexual harassment line and backed off, saying, “ _ And  _ you make me cold just looking at you in a single layer in the dead of winter.” 

John raised a single eyebrow and Jack clucked his tongue disapprovingly. Then he affected boredom and looked back at the screen in front of him. “Anyway, point is: nice sweater.”

“Thanks, my boyfriend picked it out himself.” 

Jack mimed plugging his ears with his fingers — the universal signal for TMI. He clearly had less than zero desire to know anything about anyone’s relationships in the office. Which made John wonder what Jack’s own domestic situation was like, if he was  _ that _ obsessed with avoiding conversations about it. 

He couldn’t help telling Flint about the exchange at lunch, though. 

“Wait, you  _ mentioned  _ me?”

“No, I didn’t. No one knows I was talking about you.”

“Still...” Flint chewed his sandwich with a frown, but it was a thoughtful frown, not a worried one, John believed. Hoped, really.

“Still, I look good in your sweater, and you’re now thinking of which other ones you can pawn off on me, so that you can see me wearing your clothes at the office every day this week.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Flint sneered.

“Ye-es, but that doesn’t make it any less truuue,” John murmured with a singsong voice. 

“You’re the worst and I hate you.” Flint’s frown looked more like a pout.

“Because I’m right. You hate that I can read your mind.”

“You can’t.” At John’s defiant laugh, Flint said, “Fine, what am I thinking right now?”

“That I’m an annoying asshole and that if we were alone you would teach me a lesson, maybe over your knee?” John’s eyebrow jumped up his forehead, but Flint’s rose a mere fraction of an inch.

“You fucking wish.”

John sighed. “Well, a guy can dream, can’t he?”

“How about dreaming up a way of getting out of the New Year’s party so we can celebrate properly, just the two of us.”

“Hmmm... that  _ is _ tempting. I hadn’t thought about not being allowed to kiss you at midnight.”

“It’s not that we’re not  _ allowed, _ it’s just—”

“I know. It’s a bad idea to broadcast whatever this is at our workplace.”

“Whatever this is...?” And  _ that  _ was what Flint’s worried frown looked like. 

John backpedaled. “I mean,  _ we _ know what it is, but that doesn’t mean people would see it correctly, or take it seriously...”

“Should they take it seriously?” Flint’s face had quickly become a blank mask, devoid of emotion. 

John’s heart rate skipped a few notches faster. “Well, shit. I dunno about you, but I sure do. I know it’s only been a couple weeks, but if we both hadn’t been chickenshit it could have been a couple months already, so...”

“Yeah, but it’s not really—”

“Hang on. Are you just playing devil’s advocate right now, or do you actually have reservations about us?”

“I...” Flint shut his mouth and frowned at the table. “I dunno. It feels like tempting fate to get serious about something so new at this time of year. Like maybe it’s just the magic of the holidays that’s making it feel all perfect and romantic and like a future together is possible.”

John leaned back in his chair, affecting a casual pose. He breathed through the tightness in his chest at the words ‘magic of the holidays’ and ‘future together’ and tried to be real with Flint. “Look. The holidays are historically a fucking shitshow for me, so the fact that our relationship isn’t  _ On Fire _ right now feels like a goddamned miracle. One I’m willing to hold tight to.” 

Flint’s mouth shaped the word ‘oh’ but he didn’t voice it. Or at least, not loud enough so John could hear it. 

He felt the need to continue. “I’m not saying that’s grounds to move in together next week, but this feeling has nothing to do with the time of year for me. I just really fucking like you, and have for months, and I want to celebrate that fact. I dunno, nevermi—”

“No, yes. Let’s celebrate it. I don’t want you to think that I don’t...” Flint took a deep breath, then started again. “I’m here. I’m in it. I really like you, too.”

John leaned forward and licked his lips, drawing Flint’s gaze to his mouth. Flint licked his own lips, a ready response to their private signal that they wished they could kiss each other just then. It helped John breathe again.

“Okay, good. Thanks.”

“Let’s go to the office party, then find an excuse to leave. We can celebrate West Coast New Year privately, if necessary.”

It was impossible to do anything but beam at Flint when he was being sweet. “It’s a deal,” John said.

 

~~

 

New Year’s Eve was actually an awful holiday, and James usually skipped it altogether, but he hadn’t told John that. Instead, he’d tried to infuse it with a bit of the holiday magic he’d been feeling all month and hoped that John was getting at least a hint of it, too. 

Following his current highly amenable trend, John said James could dress him for the occasion, and he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity. They both wore new suits with nice, clean lines, shirts of complementary colors, and tasteful but festive ties. 

“You don’t think it’s too obvious we’re together?” John had said to James’ reflection in the mirror while scrutinizing his own. 

James had said no, but the truth was, he didn’t much care if their co-workers saw something when they looked at John and him. He kinda wanted people to be jealous if they figured it out, honestly. 

The party itself was schmancy and festive, with lots of finger foods and champagne, and it was both fun and agonizing to be there with John but not actually  _ with _ him. Other parties had caused mild agony for the same reasons, except at those times he hadn’t yet had the pleasure of achieving everything he’d been aching for. Comparatively, ignorance had been bliss, as they say. 

Knowing exactly what John’ lips would taste like if he kissed them at any given moment was torture, to be quite frank. Especially when John licked them and looked at James’ own. At one point when John did that, James groaned, low in his throat. It wasn’t exactly subtle, but he couldn’t really help it. John looked delectable, his long curls half-tied back in twisty little braids, which, paired with the suit and a tie that matched his eyes, accentuated his natural beauty. James was getting hungry just looking at him. 

They’d decided they wouldn’t leave before midnight because it would be too suspicious, but the closer to twelve it got, the hungrier other people started to look when they talked with John, and the more James wanted to straight-up growl at them. 

John took every opportunity he could to casually touch James, and it helped, but not quite enough. 

He started internally arguing with himself about why it was important to keep their relationship on the downlow at work, but every argument he made he could easily refute. 

Maybe he was too good at playing devil’s advocate after all. 

Two minutes before midnight, James took the first opportunity he had alone with John to say, “I don’t want you to think I don’t take this seriously.”

“Take what seriously, cheese dip?” John was smiling but he wasn’t being a snarkmonster. They had actually been talking about the cheese dip moments before.

“Us.” James stepped closer and John leaned back to look him in the eyes.

“I know...? What are you—”

“I take it seriously enough to not care about what anyone here thinks.”

“Are you joking? Half the people here could fire me tomorrow if they felt like it.”

James balked. Stepped back. “Are you worried about that? If we went public, would you be—”

“I dunno. Jack would fight for me, but if it’s actually against company policy...”

“Only if there’s direct oversight, which there isn’t.”

“So it’s not just that Max and Anne could kill us all in our sleep that allows them be as public as they are?”

“Right. Though Jack fears not being promoted if his part in things were known.”

“Whaaa? How the fuck do  _ you  _ know—”

James’ finger was only halfway to his lips when Ellie, Jack, and Madi from accounting came over, grabbed champagne flutes from a nearby table, and tugged James and John to the large knot of people who were about to start counting down from twenty. 

Ellie had positioned herself between James and John, and James had to remind himself there was no reason to be jealous as he sidled behind her and put his hand on the small of John’s back. 

As the numbers ticked down on the display high above everyone’s head, John leaned into the touch, then looked over at James with a private smile as he started mouthing along from  _ ten. _

In that moment, James couldn’t take his eyes off his beautiful, amazing, loveable boyfriend. When John’s lips pursed on  _ two, _ James found himself wanting so badly to kiss John that everything else seemed inconsequential. Feeling totally unable to hold back for decorum’s sake, he leaned in, slow and obvious, for a sweet, gentle kiss. 

For a split second John’s face was a riot of confusion, but he missed saying  _ one _ or  _ Happy New Year  _ because he immediately responded by pressing his mouth to James’. 

There was nothing spectacular about their midnight kiss in and of itself, but the butterflies in James’ stomach seemed to have formed a mosh pit, and he could feel his cheeks and neck flushing hot from... not embarrassment, but simply from exposure to the public eye. And not just a generic “the public” either, but people they knew and worked with. 

Being out about this could have felt wrong or intimidating or actually embarrassing, but instead it felt very  _ right. _ He and John worked together, so why shouldn’t work friends know they were happy together in every other way, too?

John seemed to have frozen in place. No, that wasn’t right. He was actively kissing James, but he seemed to not want to stop or pull away, as if he hoped this moment would last forever. Possibly because he wasn’t ready for the next moment to arrive.

James wasn’t sure he was, either. This one was pretty perfect, after all.

Inevitably, the moment ended when someone started to applaud them. They both startled and pulled away, dragged out of their little not-so-private bubble and back to reality. Of course it was Jack. He wasn’t the only one looking, but he was definitely the one drawing attention to the scene. 

They’d naturally pressed close together while kissing, so now James had his arms around John’s waist, and John’s hands were clutching James’ shoulder and nape. It was clear they were intimately acquainted, even if they weren’t locking lips at that exact moment. 

And people were staring.

Ellie’s mouth was hanging open, but Max and Madi and Billy, John’s one friend in IT, had joined in the clapping. Someone whooped — James had a feeling it was his own office manager, DeGroot — and James hid his blush in John’s hair. 

“All right, show’s over,” John said good-naturedly, though James could hear the tiny bite of annoyance in his voice. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in John’s ear.

“Don’t. That was painless. A lot easier than I’d expected.” John kissed his neck. “But we shouldn’t linger on it.”

He pulled gently away and James relented, dropping his hands. Of course then he didn’t know what to do with them, so he stuffed them in his pockets. 

Thankfully, only a few well-wishers were still watching them, one of which was Max. 

“Bonne Année et toutes mes félicitations, mon frére.”

“Gesundheit,” James replied, with more smugness than snark. 

“Yes, thank you. Health is a good thing to wish someone at this time of year.” She was trying to hold back a smile but her lips twitched too much to manage it. “Also, success in your newest venture. I am happy to see it done.”

“Sorry, what?” 

Max looked over at Jack, who was heartily congratulating John, and smiled fondly. “We were hoping...”

“Betting, more like,” Anne said, having materialized out of nowhere at James’ elbow. 

James felt his face flush hot at the idea that someone had already noticed John’s and his feelings for each other. He didn't dare ask how long the bet had been running, as the answer might have been disheartening. 

“There was a wager, but no hard feelings from the one who lost.” Max still hadn’t looked away from Jack, who now had his arm around John in a way that made James’ hands clench tight. 

“Never fear, my friend,” Max said, a finger trailing down James’ cuff, possibly a reminder to release his grip. “He is yours. Our boy is enthusiastic, but listens when we set boundaries.”

“Also,  _ that’s _ direct oversight, that is. Silver’s safe.” Anne left them without another word and loomed near Jack until he noticed her and his rambling at John diminished as his focus shifted. 

John looked over at James, bit his lower lip, and poked his thumb towards the exit, eyebrows high. 

James nodded and turned to say goodnight to Max, but she was already herding her people back toward the food and drinks. Neither was protesting in the least.

As they headed to the coat check, John laced their fingers together and bumped James’ shoulder, sighing contentedly.

James smiled. “Yeah? That was all right?”

“Yeah. Perfect.”

“The night’s not over yet."

John looked prim, almost reproving. “Good because I have  _ plans _ once I get you to myself.”

“Oh...?” James lifted a suggestive eyebrow but John seemed to ignore it.

“Yeah. The whole point of this evening is the New Year’s Kiss, right?” At James’ grudging nod, John continued. “Well, to ring in 2019 right, I feel as though I should get at least 18 more kisses. _And_ a fuck-ton of cuddles, as well.”

“I suppose a fuck-ton is about 2000 cuddles, so that adds up nicely.”

“Yes, good. I’m glad you’re going with me on this.” John’s smile was bright, electric, stimulating.

“Anywhere, anytime, darling,” James replied, and fucking meant it. “Hopefully while you’re wearing my clothes.”

John’s grin went wide and sharklike. “Or no longer wearing them, as the case may be...”

“Even better. Happy Fucking Holidays, my dear.”

James laughed when John made a delighted noise and kissed him, saying, “I’m glad New Years is now officially one of the Fucking Holidays.”

“Well, it will be when I get you home,” James growled merrily.

John’s eyes were wide and shining as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll hail an Uber.”

"Be quick." James couldn't wait to have John in his arms — in the car, in bed, wherever — and he was pretty damned sure he'd never want to let go. 

  
  



End file.
